Rely on Us
by Writer of Whispers
Summary: Maka must deal with bullies at Shibusen while she wonders about the role of the technician. Mostly friendship but some SoulxMaka. Rated for language.
1. Bruise

**Here's the intro to the new story. I promise next chapter will be longer. Hope you all enjoy. =)**

**Disclaimer (which applies to all chapters): I do not own Soul Eater or any associated rights, companies, etc. I also did not make any profit whatsoever from this fanfiction. (Darn, right?)**

* * *

The essay should have been easy. For once, Soul had finished his first, a fact that he taunted her with. Not that he wouldn't have helped her in an instant, had she asked, but she didn't.

"The prompt," Professor Stein had told the class yesterday, "is to describe your role in your particular partnership, be it weapon or meister. Five hundred words, on my desk Friday." Essentially: what was her role as a technician?

It disturbed Maka when she did not have an answer.

* * *

"Oi, Maka, what happened to your knee?" Black Star asked, leaning over his desk to peer at his friend's gauze-encased leg. Of course, Black Star had to ask this question on high volume just as the bell rang so that the entire class heard and listened in.

"Nothing!" Black Star raised one eyebrow, and Maka blushed before looking away. "I just, uh…" When Black Star leaned closer, one hand cupped around his ear to hear better, Maka continued in her smallest voice, "fell down the stairs."

When Black Star guffawed and called her a klutz, at the top of his lungs no less, Maka whacked him over the head with the heavy tome she had borrowed from the library that morning. "Maka Chop," she added as an afterthought.

As Tsubaki tried to hold together the two halves of her partner's skull, Maka glanced over at Soul. Her weapon and partner sat hunched with his head nestled in his curled arms. From under his unkempt bangs, his crimson eyes stared up at her as if they could see straight through her.

At least, she was certain, he had seen through her lie.

Sure enough, when Dr. Stein dismissed class that afternoon, Soul followed Maka to the restroom. After she hid in the toilet for as long as her pride would allow her, Maka found him waiting for her, leaning against the wall with arms crossed.

"So what really happened?" he asked, not bothering to move from his "Cool Guy" pose. He watched her squirm for a moment before adding, "Are you hurt anywhere else? You've been holding your elbow most of the afternoon, and you wince when you turn too fast."

"I'm fine." Maka looked away, removing her hand from the elbow she had, in fact, been holding. Her arms hung by her sides for a minute while she tried to figure out where to place her hands where it wouldn't hurt.

She never did figure out where to put them because suddenly she was pinned against the wall. Soul gripped her shoulder with one hand and used the other to lift her shirt's hem a few inches. "Soul!" she squeaked, but her protest was cut short when she saw her partner's pained grimace.

The bruise did look pretty ugly—plum purple and the size of a grapefruit. "It doesn't hurt much," she said, voice softened to comfort him.

But he wasn't about to be comforted.

Moving nothing but his eyes, Soul glared up at her. She could have choked on the anger exuding from her weapon. "Maka. Who. Fucking. Did. This?!" Maka stubbornly clamped her lips shut. "Dammit, Maka, it's my job as a weapon to protect you! How can I do that if you don't tell me when you get hurt?"

"I told you. I fell down the stairs."

"And who pushed you?"

Maka did not know how to respond to that. Fortunately, Dr. Stein chose that moment to clear his throat right beside the arguing pair. "Is this the time or place to be undressing, young meister?"

Maka turned radicchio red. Ignoring the impropriety of striking a teacher, Maka slammed a book against Dr. Stein's head and almost dislodged the giant screw before she stomped away.

Behind her, Maka heard Soul sigh loudly. Secretly, Maka appreciated Soul's concern, but how could she burden him anymore than she already did? No. She would handle this problem herself.


	2. Telephone

**Gah, introspection…**

**This chapter I'd like to specially thank my reviewers since they brightened my otherwise gloomy day. EricKeyblade: I'm glad I'm not the only one who finds the subtlety of SoulxMaka so adorable. Thanks for the encouragement. Aeroblitz: surprisingly, I don't mind being stalked, lol. Thank you! To my anonymous reviewer: thank you so much for the compliment! I hope this story lives up to expectations. All that leaves is RavenAK, who has reviewed my stories so many times already: I will definitely try to put in all of those elements and more. Just wait 'til next chapter. ;)**

**Chapter originally titled Bath, but it changed after I was **_**inspired**_** to write an extra scene. *chucks phone at wall***

* * *

Maka had heard the gossiping before.

"Can you believe it? That bookworm trailing after Black Star and Death the Kidd? Who does she think she is?"

"Does she really think she's as strong as Black Star when all he does is work out nonstop? Not to mention Shinigami's son."

"Forget them. She can't even keep up with her own partner."

Oh, Maka knew what they said about her. Bookworm, geek, weakling, flat-chest, washboard. Tiny tits. (Thank you, Soul.) She knew it didn't really matter, but a tiny little part of her had to admit… it still hurt.

She expected some of it. After all, she had made friends with some of the coolest students in Shibusen, and she didn't just mean Black Star, Death the Kidd, or Mr. Cool himself. Surprisingly, the ever-sweet Tsubaki had become quite popular outside of Black Star's self-deifying sphere, and Patty had impressed all of the other weapons with her physical prowess. Not to mention Liz, who lived—and shopped, plucked, manicured, pedicured, dressed, stressed—for the spotlight.

Maka, on the other hand, did not share her friends' magnetism. Yes, her parents were famous, and yes, she earned stellar grades. Those traits did not endear her to her peers, however, and in fact made some people quite jealous. Maka had her good traits; she was a hard worker, a good friend, and a courageous technician. But she had long ago admitted to herself that she was, completely and without a doubt, utterly _uncool_.

* * *

Maka successfully avoided Soul for the rest of the day. After school, she had taken her time grocery shopping and then making a complicated new recipe for dinner (which Soul seemed to enjoy, despite the fact that he spent most of the meal glaring sullenly at the cook). After that, Maka cleaned the dishes, did the laundry, vacuumed her room, and, essentially, kept herself too busy to talk. When she did not have the excuse of chores anymore, Maka simply vanished into the bathroom where Soul would be forced to leave her in peace… or so she thought.

Maka had barely settled into her warm bath, complete with bubbles and lavender-scented bath salts (complements of Liz) when she heard a heavy thump against the door.

Soul did not start speaking immediately. Maka waited for a few tense minutes before she lathered up and started scrubbing. Eventually, when her partner remained silent, Maka began to relax, fully enjoying the fragrant water and the relaxing massage of the loofah on her skin. She had almost forgotten the boy leaning against the door when she suddenly pressed down on her bruise and squeaked in pain.

"Maka?!" Soul called. Maka instantly tensed again at his audible concern.

"I'm okay."

"Are you sure? I can get Blair—"

"No!" Maka said a little too loudly, sitting up in the bathtub. "Soul, you really don't need to worry so much. It's a bruise, for Shinigami's sake, not a battle wound. I'm fi—"

"Do not," Soul interrupted, "say you're fine."

_Okay_, Maka thought, _I won't say anything at all._ Maka gave up on her bath, rinsing off as quickly as possible before pulling the drain. Standing up, she grabbed a plushy towel and started to pat her hair dry. The steam kept the air warm as she examined herself in the mirror. Without the bandage, her knee was an angry red, and swollen. Her elbow looked as bad as the bruise on her stomach—dark purple, big. These were minor injuries, though, absolutely nothing compared to the wounds Maka had received while fighting prekishins. Maka would be ashamed to call herself a technician if she cried over them._ What is Soul so worked up about?_ she asked herself as she started the process of rewrapping her knee. _I'm really not hurt so badly, so why…?_

The door moved slightly. Maka guessed Soul had been leaning against it until now and had just sat up. "How long?"

It surprised her that Soul would pursue the topic for so long. Usually he would ask once, offer a shoulder to cry on, but then he would wait until she decided to tell him. He never pressed her like this. "I'll be out in a sec," Maka called as she yanked on her pajamas—the long ones that would hide the bruises.

"That is not what I meant," he grumbled.

When Maka opened the bathroom door, Soul, who of course was sitting right in front of it, looked up at her with those sad, questioning eyes that Maka had such a hard time refusing. She smiled a little and ruffled his hair with one hand. She should not worry him like this.

Soul reached up to snag the hand in his hair, holding it as he stared at her. Then he made a groaning sort of noise in the back of his throat. "You frustrate me."

"Ditto. You know, it's not cool to interrupt someone's me-time. You could have waited to guilt-trip me until after I was fully clothed."

Soul smirked, but then, squeezing her hand slightly, he said seriously, "Alright, I give. You can keep your secret for tonight, but you _will_ tell me tomorrow."

Maka shrugged, knowing better than to argue. "Well, good night," she said with a yawn.

"Good night, Maka."

* * *

Shortly after the awakening of the Black Blood, Soul had moved his bed. He had positioned it opposite the window so that only the wall, thin as it was, separated him from his meister. All that time ago, he had been comforted knowing that when he awoke from his nightmare, she was close by, safe, and he could just hear her breathing if he listened hard enough.

Now he thanked Shinigami that he hadn't moved it back.

A sharp intake of breath—that had been enough to wake him from his uneasy sleep. Soul had glanced at the wall, wondering vaguely if he should check on his partner but not particularly willing to leave his bed. He had decided to go back to sleep just about the time he heard the tiny beeps of someone pushing the buttons of a cell phone. Curiosity roused him, and Soul pressed an ear against the wall to listen.

_So not cool, Soul_, he chastised himself, but then he heard Maka quietly ask, "Tsubaki?"

"Yeah, it's me, Maka. Yeah, I'm okay; I just… had a nightmare." There was a pause as Maka listened to Tsubaki. "I'm sorry. It's just that… I'm not sure if I should bother Soul right now. He's… worried."

_Yeah_, he thought wryly, _about you._

"No, we're not fighting; Soul's just overreacting. You know what he's like."

_Overreacting._ Soul would have snorted if it wouldn't have given him away. _Yeah, Tsubaki knows what I'm like: awesomely cool. Or vice versa._

Then Maka answered a question from the phone before starting in on her story. "Well, I was standing in this dark room full of telephones, you know, the old-fashioned kind with rotary dials and big handsets. They were each sitting on a different table, and they were each different colors, like the colors of our souls. Yours was pink, and Black Star's was blue, and Soul's was yellow." Soul perked up at the sound of his name; was his soul really yellow? That was cool. "I started to dial one of the phones, I'm not sure whose it was, but I couldn't remember the number. I hung up that phone and tried Kidd's—his was red—phone, but I couldn't remember his number, either. Then I tried the yellow phone, but when put my finger in the slot, the rotary dial fell off.

"Then the room turned black so that I couldn't see the phones anymore. I tried to walk, but I tripped and fell into this big pit of coiled cords with the handsets torn off. The cords felt slick and wet…. Just then, the lights switched on, and the cords were _bleeding_, and I just knew it was my fault."

Soul stopped listening as Maka began to cry and Tsubaki comforted her. He hated to let someone else soothe his partner when she was hurt, but he also knew that if Maka had called Tsubaki, it was Tsubaki she wanted to hear. He might as well get some rest for all the good he was doing by eavesdropping.

Silently, Soul picked up his alarm clock and set it back half an hour; it wouldn't kill him to make breakfast in the morning. That much he could do. Only with that thought—and when he finally heard Maka tell Tsubaki, "Thanks, that makes me feel better"—could Soul fall asleep again.

* * *

Meanwhile, at an apartment several blocks away…

Tsubaki was not surprised when Black Star appeared in the doorway of her bedroom, rubbing one sleepy eye and clad in nothing but star-decorated boxers. "Hoo wuz at," he half-mumbled, half-yawned. Tsubaki smiled, amused at how very child-like her meister appeared at three in the morning.

"Maka. She had a nightmare," Tsubaki explained as she set her cell phone on the nightstand.

Black Star nodded as if he could have and should have known that. "Yeah. She's been having problems, hasn't she?"

"Huh?" Tsubaki stared at her partner, confused, but he was already shuffling back to bed. Why was Maka having problems?


	3. Locker

**Thank you for the encouragement so far. *hugs all of the reviewers* You guys are the best.**

**Gah, dialogue. I was going to jump into the more action-oriented part of the story, but I'm saving it for next chapter (when you'll meet the meanies harassing Maka, hint hint…). I guess I was just in the mood for a fun Black Star moment today. Enjoy, and I'll have the next chapter out ASAP. :)**

* * *

Five years ago…

"Black Star, don't you _dare_," Maka warned, grabbing her friend's wrist as he turned to chase after the boys who had been yanking Maka's pigtails a minute earlier. "You're going to get in enough trouble when Sid hears!"

"Who cares!" Black Star shook Maka off. "I'm gonna pound 'em into the ground!"

Maka didn't back down; instead, she got in front of her friend and raised her arms to either side, blocking him. "Black Star, _no_."

"Why, Maka?" Black Star paused long enough to glare at the girl, who, despite her messed-up hair ribbons and her scruffed-up dress, glared back with equal intensity.

"Because revenge isn't going to solve anything," Maka stated calmly. "I want to handle this my way, and my way doesn't involve black eyes."

"Hmph." Black Star crossed his arms, spun in a circle, and stomped back to the sandbox. "Maka, you sound just like a grown-up."

* * *

Black Star had been creeping up behind Liz wearing a hairy green mask when he heard a crash from the next hallway. He turned his head. What was _that_?

The crash attracted Liz's attention as well, and the girl turned with her hands on her hips. "Black Star, what— WAAAAAHHH!!"

Black Star grinned as he removed the mask, ready to announce his stardom to the world (or at least to the unfortunate demon gun currently huddling on the ground and muttering something about "ninja-eating goblins"). However, several clanks from the other hallway interrupted Black Star's speech, effectively arousing his curiosity. Really, somebody had better not be stealing the spotlight from him…..

Black Star turned around, tossing his mask behind him. Liz squealed in fright as it landed right beside her. As he walked away, Black Star thought he heard Liz shouting, "You jerk!"

By the time Black Star arrived, Maka had gathered most of her books off the floor and had made several dents in the locker next to hers (his locker—not that he cared, since he had already damaged the door so much that it was a miracle it hadn't fallen off the hinges by now). Maka gave the locker one more kick before dropping the last of her books in her own locker, which had been rearranged since the previous afternoon.

This was the second time in a month.

"If you point 'em out, I'll punch 'em out," Black Star offered as he put a hand on the top of her locker door.

"I told you, Black Star; I'll handle this my way."

Black Star rolled his eyes. Where had he heard _that_ before? "Your way being the old call-up-your-best-friend-and-cry-to-her-over-the-phone-while-her-awesome-partner-is-trying-to-sleep approach? Or is it the worry-your-own-miserable-meister-and-just-happen-to-annoy-everyone-else method?"

Maka slammed her locker shut, and Black Star barely retracted his fingers in time. "Very helpful. Now please shut up, or Soul will hear you."

"Where is Soul?" Black Star asked, scanning the hallway. It was unusual for the weapon to be so far away from his meister, even at school, and especially if he wasn't with Black Star.

"He was helping Tsubaki. They wanted to ask Miss Nygus about something." Maka shrugged while readjusting the books in her hands.

"You haven't told him, have you?" Black Star asked, crossing his arms.

Maka smiled sweetly. "That's right— and if you do, it won't be your locker that I dent permanently."

"Just try it," Black Star said with a snort—honestly, where did Maka get off questioning his godlike invincibility? Then inspiration struck, and Black Star smirked as he began to walk away. "Oh, and Maka? If you let this go on much longer, it won't be _Soul_ I tell."

Maka flinched. "You wouldn't."

Black Star's pace picked up as he cupped his hands into a megaphone around his mouth: "Oh, Mr. Death Scyyythe~!"

"Hold it! Black Star!!"

* * *

"Well, that was a bust," Soul muttered as he flopped down on one of the many Shibusen staircases.

Tsubaki nodded as she sat down beside him. _We didn't learn anything_, Tsubaki thought miserably, _even though we went to the infirmary first thing this morning._ "I guess we can't blame Miss Nygus…"

"Like hell we can't," Soul growled. "Like I give a crap about 'patient confidentiality.' I'm her _weapon_—"

"—and I'm her best friend," Tsubaki cut in, and Soul paused in his tirade. "We're both worried, but maybe we should do as Miss Nygus says and just ask her."

"I did," Soul complained, "and she just clams up. I don't get it."

Tsubaki sighed. She knew that Maka could be more stubborn than her own pig-headed partner when push came to shove. That was exactly what confused her, though—if Soul was right, and Maka was being bullied… Tsubaki just couldn't picture it. Maka? Maka, the confident friend, the straight-A student, one of the best one-star meisters in Shibusen? Compared to prekishins and witches, _bullies_ just seemed… ridiculous. _Could anything that trivial really be bothering her?_

Tsubaki wondered.

"Hey, you two!"

Both weapons flinched at the sound of Maka's voice. Tsubaki turned with a (fake) smile. "Oh, M-Maka…"

"Have either of you seen Black Star?" Maka asked, lifting the two books in her hand over her shoulder. Soul grimaced as if he had hoped to see Maka without any books on hand.

"No," Tsubaki answered. "Why?"

Maka frowned before glancing around, muttering "freaky ninja skills," and sitting down on the steps between Soul and Tsubaki. "Never mind. You know how he is." Then she perked up and asked Tsubaki, "So? What was it you wanted to see Miss Nygus about?"

"Um…" _Oh no… I can't lie… she'll figure me out for sure…._

"She wouldn't help us," Soul interrupted. "Tsubaki thought we should ask some senior weapons about the role of weapons and all that for our papers. Turns out Stein warned all the staff not to help us."

"Yeah," Tsubaki agreed, pretending to be disappointed. In her mind, however, she was crying tears of relief.

"Darn!" Maka seemed to believe them; she scowled. "I was going to ask Sid for help, too!"

"Wait, you still haven't finished your paper?" Soul scoffed. "Even I finished mine already."

"Soul, don't—wait." Both weapons flinched again as Maka stabbed an accusing finger at Soul's chest. "You just said you were asking Miss Nygus about the papers! Or were you just a helping Tsubaki out of the goodness of your heart?" Note the heavy sarcasm.

"Of course." Soul eyed the books on Maka's lap warily. "That's what cool guys do. Right, Tsubaki?"

"R-right."

"But—" Maka was cut off as the bell rang, _kill kill kill, die die die_. The technician leaped up. "Oh, crap! Hurry up, you two! We're going to be late for gym!"


	4. Slip

**Might as well get it out of my system… I LOVE MY REVIEWERS!**

***ahem***

**This story keeps getting longer, especially since I keep adding extra scenes. So… I guess it won't be as "short" a series as I had planned. I'm sorry? =) Btw, I decided to use italics to show a dream-like-thing today**

**A few notes: this story takes place sometime before Soul becomes a Death Scythe, tho' I'm not sure _exactly_ when. Also, I know my bullies are OC's, but I'm allowing them since they're in the category of "throwaway villains," albeit with a twist. And yes, I **_**know**_** it's hard to believe that Maka would be bullied, but I chose her as the victim for a **_**reason**_**, and no-that-reason-was-not-an-excuse-to-write-SoMa-fluff! Just play along and eventually it'll make more sense… I hope. =) **

* * *

As it turned out, Maka, Soul, and Tsubaki skidded into gym just as the bell finished ringing. Marie tapped her clipboard on Soul's head as she passed. "You're lucky I'm subbing today," Marie told the trio, "or you'd be marked tardy."

"Thank you," Tsubaki gasped, and Maka tugged her friend toward the girls' locker room after a quick wave to Soul.

Once inside the locker room, Maka immediately recognized the three girls who turned and glared at her as she walked in. Fortunately, Tsubaki was still gasping for air (despite being the best long distance runner Maka knew, Tsubaki's sprint was mediocre) and didn't notice. Maka hurried past to her own locker and fished inside for her gym uniform, only answering the Thompson sisters' hello with a quick wave.

Maka was astonished that she actually felt the icy clutch of fear in her chest—nothing to compare with the fear she felt facing Arachne or Medusa, but fear nonetheless. Mentally chiding herself, Maka hurried to dress. Despite her near tardiness, Maka was one of the first to report to the gymnasium.

Unfortunately, the three girls who had glared at her followed her out. Maka scanned the gym, but she didn't know any of the other students very well. She did not spot Black Star, Kidd, or, more importantly, Soul.

_I said I'd deal with this on my own_, Maka reminded herself,_ and at least there aren't any staircases around this time. _Maka began to stretch for class as the three girls approached; no use in paying them any attention, she reasoned with herself.

The ringleader was another meister—Lauretta, a lanky blonde with a high ponytail, who was pretty but who also tended to fade into a crowd. Maka rather thought she resembled Liz, except for the steely eyes which smoldered with an anger. Maka had observed the girl's soul once, and even her silver soul had been broiling with a rage at the world. "Did you hear, Maka?" she called with a bright, fake smile. "They're announcing class ranks at lunch today."

On Lauretta's right side walked her weapon, a gum-chewing redhead named Brigit who blew bubbles big enough that Maka wondered why they didn't splatter against those precious copper coils that Brigit twirled in one of her fingers. If Lauretta was angry, then Brigit was energetic—and fidgety. "Of course, we all know who's number one. Who can compete with you when you spend all your free time cooped up with your books? I feel so bad for Soul, having such a boring partner…."

Maka didn't say a word, though she regretted not bringing one of those books into the gym with her.

"Nah-uh." On Lauretta's other side, Cho, a short Chinese girl with her hair cut in a bob, leaned backward on her heels. Cho was by far the most interesting character in the trio; despite being a weapon without a meister, Cho had managed to gather over a dozen souls by pairing up with various meisters. Maka sensed in Cho an extremely timid soul, which allowed for a wider range of soul compatibility but did not explain or excuse the girl's actions. "She probably just asks her papa to bribe the professor," Cho suggested, raising her slender black eyebrows tauntingly.

"Or asks Kidd to influence Shinigami," Brigit chuckled.

_Low, but not at all clever_, Maka thought as she feigned deafness and began to stretch her calves. _Is this the best they have?_

Apparently, it wasn't. Lauretta, whose smile only brightened even as her eyes darkened with anger, continued, "You can't blame the poor girl, Cho, Brigit. She's only following her mother's example."

Maka froze mid-stretch. Any fear within her vaporized, replaced with searing rage. Even her knuckles burned with indignance.

The only thing that stopped Maka from slugging the girl right then and there was surprise. "Oi, Maka!"

Maka turned and saw Soul waving to her from the other gym entrance, wearing his lazy, crooked smile. Maka glanced back at the trio of girls before running over to her weapon and leaping on him. She practically knocked him over as she hugged him. "Eh? Maka?" Soul glanced from her to retreating girls and settled his gaze on the top of her head, which he patted awkwardly.

"… we miss something?" Liz asked, braiding her hair as she walked up. Patty giggled beside her.

"Not a thing," Soul replied smoothly, and Maka pulled away to smile at her friends just as Kidd and Tsubaki walked up. Her smile slipped, however, when she did not spot Black Star. Where had that annoying ninja disappeared to?

Kidd smiled even as he readjusted his gym clothes. "If you're looking for Black Star, he said to tell you that he'll finish ruining your life after he's done traumatizing Liz."

"What?!" Liz glanced quickly around before ducking behind Kidd. "He's not done yet?!"

Tsubaki sighed loudly, obviously wondering what Black Star had in mind, and Patty laughed obnoxiously, just as she always did. Soul looked up at the ceiling—and then snatched Maka by both her shoulders and yanked her out of the way as a large, hairy, and obviously fake spider fell from the ceiling, its glass eyes glowing red.

Liz's eyes widened, and without so much as a scream, the poor weapon fainted.

"Nya ha ha ha! Hya-HOOO!" Black Star leaped down from the ceiling beams of the gymnasium, landing on both feet right beside the spider, who wriggled on the end of its rope. "Behold! The all-mighty, fearsome BLACK STAR!!"

"Sweet." Soul bumped fists with his friend.

"Symmetry!" A starry-eyed Kidd ran over and marveled at the fake spider, even hugging it as he turned to his weapons. "Liz, Patty, you have to see this! It's perfectly symmetrical! Liz?"

Liz glared at Black Star. "I. Hate. You."

"Nya ha ha!"

"You're late," Marie interrupted, walking over to shake her clipboard menacingly at the ninja, who was still wearing his everyday clothes. "I'm grading the mock duels today, so hurry up and change before you make Tsubaki late!"

Black Star jerked a thumb toward his own overconfident grin. "I'm never late! This is my stage!" Tsubaki muttered yep's and mm-hm's in the appropriate places before the meister slipped into the locker rooms to change.

Soul nudged Maka's elbow. "You sure you're up for this? Maybe we should wait until—"

Maka ignored Soul and raised her hand. "We'd like to go first!"

Soul gave her a look that clearly said you're-crazy-and-I'm-taking-you-to-the-frickin'-psychologist-as-soon-as-we're-out-of-here, but she ignored it. Yes, her bruises hurt (her knee was still bandaged up), but she had fought in worse condition. Soul was just overreacting, again.

"We'll go, too!" Brigit's hand shot up. Maka's head whipped around to face the weapon, who was practically bouncing up and down with excitement.

_What are they up to?_ Maka wondered. It wasn't that she was being cocky, but honestly, were they asking to be slaughtered? She and Soul had far more experience and a much higher rate of soul resonance, not to mention Maka's advantage in weapon types….

"Sure thing," Marie chirped, and she scribbled a note on the clipboard. "Just to remind everyone, the rules for the match are these: one, weapons are not to resume human form during the match; two, demolition of school property and/or other students will result in a detention; and three, the first team to immobilize, disarm, or draw blood from the opposing technician wins. You'll be graded on ability and technique. The boundaries are the gym walls. Any questions?" No one did, and the other students sat on the bleachers to watch from a safe distance.

"Don't underestimate us," Lauretta warned as she walked up to the half-court line on the gym floor. Brigit popped her bubblegum one more time before glowing bright red and transforming into her weapon form—a poniard, a triangular dagger used during the Middle Ages for close-range stabbing and piercing armor. It was a simple weapon—a gleaming steel blade cut in a simplistic triangular shape, perhaps eight inches in length, with an onyx-black hilt and circular red guard.

Maka was thoroughly confused now. A poniard may have been useful up the sleeve of some medieval lady-in-waiting, but in a battle against any weapon of longer range, it just had too many weaknesses.

"Easy," Soul muttered just as he transformed into a scythe, which she caught almost absent-mindedly. Maka settled into a defensive stance, holding the scythe diagonally across her chest. There was something wrong with this picture—the dagger technician should have been frantically scrambling for strategies; instead, she was smirking like a Cheshire cat. Her instincts disagreed with Soul's statement; this wasn't going to be _easy _at all.

Marie called, "Start!"

Lauretta leaped forward at the signal, dagger held at the ready. Maka easily blocked a quick series of stabs using only the scythe's shaft as a guard, and then she swung the blade down in a slicing motion. Lauretta ducked, sweeping her smaller blade at Maka's legs. Maka jumped just in time, pole-vaulting over Lauretta and, upon landing, jabbing the butt of the scythe at the tech's vulnerable back. Lauretta narrowly dodged, rolling to the side and onto her feet. Then the dagger tech charged again, this time from the left, and Maka jumped backward as the poniard jabbed upward from below—aiming for Maka's stomach but missing by a few inches.

"Not using your own skills?" Maka grunted as she performed a reverse roundhouse kick that even Mickie James would have admired. Maka's heel caught the side of Lauretta's neck, knocking the technician to the floor. To her credit, Lauretta kept a hold of the poniard.

"Shut up!" Lauretta yelled, swinging her leg in an attempt to trip Maka as the scythe technician raced forward. Maka jumped over the obstacle, but it slowed her down just enough to allow Lauretta to roll to her feet again. The dagger flashed dangerously close as it was stabbed at Maka's cheek, and Maka danced backward.

Behind her, Maka heard Patty yelling, "Clobber 'em, Maka! Don't let them push you back!"

_Right_, Maka thought, dashing in a wide half-circle around her opponent, who could only turn with her dagger held defensively at shoulder level. _I can't let her pin me against a wall. The best place is… here! _She paused while Lauretta was still turning, and then Maka sprinted forward with a, "Raaugh!"

"What're you doing?!" Soul demanded as Maka flipped the scythe backward and rammed the end of the scythe _hard_ against Lauretta's wrist. (Later, Maka would admit that the move had been stupid and unlikely to achieve a thing.) Maka allowed herself a satisfied grin as the poniard sailed through the air, gleaming as it clattered on the gym floor. She had won.

Then her knee gave out.

Maka felt the throb one second, and then she was flailing her arms and stepping backward in an attempt to regain her footing. For a sickening moment, Maka felt her foot slip on—what? a marble?—and she was falling.

* * *

_Maka was staring at the naked little Christmas tree in her living room. Her mind was blank as she watched the early morning sun filter through the window and glitter on the few ornaments that remained on the tree after Blair was done climbing it. A small pile of gifts lay unopened beneath the needled branches. Maka had no desire to open them; that would require moving._

"_Nnn… you awake?" Soul half-yawned from the door of his bedroom. He wore a festive but oversized T-shirt over his pajama pants, and Maka did not expect any more Christmas spirit out of him besides those felt reindeer with their red button noses._

"_Cinnamon rolls in the oven," Maka slurred, sipping from the cup of milk that she had almost forgotten she was holding. "They'll be done soon."_

"_I'll get them," Soul offered as he shuffled toward the kitchen. A few minutes later, he reemerged with two loaded plates and forks. "I'm amazed you cooked."_

"_They're instant," Maka admitted, accepting a plate. She watched as Soul sat down on the couch, flinching from the massive bruising on his back. She winced herself as she sat up to eat, her head throbbing from the brick that had knocked her out after last night's battle. Had it only been yesterday that—_

"_It really happened," Maka whispered, still staring blankly at the tree._

"_It's not cool to ruin a holiday, Maka."_

"_But—"_

"_Merry Christmas," Soul interrupted, shoving a gift onto Maka's lap and almost toppling her plate. Maka picked up the prettily decorated box and wondered where it had come from; it hadn't been sitting under the tree._

_Maka shifted her breakfast onto the coffee table before untying the ribbon carefully. Soul watched as he continued to eat, and after Maka fumbled with the packing tape on the box, she held it up for her partner to easily slice through with a transformed arm._

"_Pink earmuffs?" she asked, pulling the fluffy contraption from the box. "But this is _Nevada_."_

"_Well, we were going to go skiing before…" Soul paused, frowning, before he continued, "Anyway, we'll use them on a mission eventually, so…"_

_Maka glanced sideways at her partner, scratching his head as if a cool guy like him could be embarrassed. Maka smiled for the first time that morning, and she twirled the earmuffs in her hands. "They're adorable."_

* * *

Maka moaned as her head throbbed painfully.

"H-hey, quit squirming!"

Maka froze, instantly awake. She grimaced, realizing that she had kicked Soul in her sleep while he was carrying her in his arms against his chest. He grunted as he shifted his arms, more or less dumping her onto her feet but keeping one arm around her shoulders for support. Maka wobbled for a second before standing, but then she leaned her forehead against Soul's shoulder. "Oww," she complained.

"Nightmare?" Soul guessed.

Maka shook her head— and immediately regretted it. For a second, her vision blurred, and Maka sighed; it was definitely a concussion. "What happened?"

"You slipped and fell on your head. Half scared me to death," Soul grumbled as he forced her to walk. Her knee hurt like hell, but at least it worked.

"Hey, Soul? What was it that I tripped on?"

Soul gave her a questioning look. "I didn't see anything. You sure it wasn't just your knee?"

Maka did not answer. It was only after Maka sat down in the infirmary and pressed an ice pack to her head that she realized her tennis shoes were slightly damp. Even then, it took her several minutes to connect her damp shoes to the ice on her head. Then she had to wonder: who threw ice on the gym floor?

* * *

**Author's Note: In case I didn't make it clear enough, the flashback was the day following the resurrection of the Kishin Asura. I'm amazed there aren't fanfics dedicated to just how much that day must have sucked. And yes, the pink earmuffs were the ones used during the Brew Tempest arc. (Can you tell that someone was rereading the manga again?) **

**Now, before I finally shut up: your reviews make me feel guilty for not updating faster, so the more reviews I receive, the more I write. Hint hint. Nudge nudge. Shove shove. Et cetera.**


	5. Postcard

**Hey everybody! Thank you so much for the cool reviews. ;) I'm sorry I couldn't update sooner. (I blame viruses, both biological and technological.) I promise the next chapter will be out faster. By the way, I made Liz Thompson left-handed in this story due to the drawings in Chapter 3 of the manga, though she's right-handed in the anime. :/**

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Maka spent the rest of gym class in the infirmary, holding ice to her head and flipping through the pages of _Famous Meisters of Shibusen_ (original title, no?). Soul had dozed off on one of the cots, just a bit of drool dripping out of his open mouth. She smiled as she watched him sleeping peacefully.

She had wanted to brainstorm for her paper, but she still didn't have a clue. She knew it was her job as a technician and student of Shibusen to create a Death Scythe by collecting ninety-nine kishin eggs and one witch soul, but she had a feeling that if she stated that as her "technician's role," Stein would fail her. There was something _more_, and she just didn't know what it was.

She envied Soul. He knew his role as a weapon and had no problem quoting it to her whenever he felt she was being reckless. He always told her, "It's my duty as a weapon to protect you," or "take care of you,"– whichever the occasion called for. He never hid the fact that he would die for her, no matter how much she wished he wouldn't. To him, his role as a weapon was as much a part of his personality as his "cool guy" attitudes.

Guilt weighed in her stomach. She _should_ know her role as a technician. She knew she had a great weapon. Why couldn't she be the great technician he deserved? She didn't even know what being a great technician meant, not really. For a moment, Maka truly wished she could talk to her mother.

"Maka?" Soul asked as he sat up, rubbing his eyes. "What's up?"

"Nothing. Just thinking."

Soul nodded and looked at the clock. "You want to head down to lunch? It's almost time."

"Yeah." Maka gathered up her books and offered Soul a hand up.

The bell rang as Maka and Soul were walking to the cafeteria, and by the time they arrived, all of their friends had already gathered around the board that usually held missions but today held the class ranking results. Maka cringed; she had forgotten about this. Soul patted her shoulder and offered to grab her lunch if she checked his result for him, and she agreed.

Stepping forward, she caught sight of Soul's name (sixty-third out of one hundred and thirty people; he had raised his grades recently thanks to her tutoring and/or threats). Then she saw her name—indeed, number one—with such words as "goody-goody," "bookworm," and other, less pleasant names scribbled in colorful Sharpie markers beside it.

Normally, she wouldn't have minded, but today it really ticked her off. Thus she had a hardcover in one hand when she dropped onto the seat beside Soul at the lunch table—a hardcover she immediately pointed at Black Star, who was sitting opposite of Soul. "You! Don't go vandalizing everything with my name on it. Find some other way to test your freaky ninja skills."

"What are you talking about?" Black Star asked— not using his "big" voice.

"Has someone touched your stuff?" Kidd asked as he rearranged the food on his tray.

Maka glanced at Soul, who had gone still in his seat, and she almost regretted bringing up the subject. "No. Never mind."

Just then, Liz shrieked as she leaped from her seat and cowered behind Kidd. Black Star started laughing obnoxiously as everyone else peered at Liz's lunch tray and then wondered how the classic rubber-snake-in-the-salad actually frightened anyone, even if they were Liz.

* * *

That afternoon, Liz and Patty skipped the lecture, much to Black Star's disappointment. Patty had been surprised when Liz sent Kidd to class without them, but Kidd merely told them to be careful and waved them away.

"What're we doing, Sis?" Patty asked, cocking her head to one side as Liz peered around a corner and down a hallway. Liz held a finger up—a gesture for silence—and Patty was quiet for about three point five seconds before she asked, "Is this about the ice?"

"Shh." Liz backed up, reaching her right hand behind her. "Patty," she whispered urgently, "transform."

"Okie dokie!" Patty obediently shifted forms into a pistol, which Liz caught easily. Patty knew for a fact that she could fight better than her older sister—Liz was such a scaredy-cat—but she did not argue. Liz would have protected her sister with her own flesh, but that wasn't so necessary once Patty had been encased with steel.

Liz gripped the pistol as she leaned against the wall. The position reminded Patty of earlier years, of Brooklyn and survival via intimidation. A few years ago, Liz would have yanked a cigarette from her pocket and balanced it on her lips; as it was, she scowled with the intensity of any ex-mugger. In weapon-form, Patty grinned. This ought to be _fun_.

Two girls turned the corner, pausing at the sight of Liz leaning against the wall and carrying a gun. Patty recognized the blonde as Lauretta and the shorter Asian as Cho, but she didn't understand the relationship between the pair. Patty didn't understand why Lauretta did not adopt Cho as a second weapon, just as Kidd and Kilik had each taken on two weapons. Sure, it was tougher to wield two weapons, but Kidd could handle it. And Kidd-O was insane as far as Patty was concerned.

Liz started chuckling as the pair looked at her. Patty's grin only widened at the familiar sound. Liz raised her head, tilting it slightly as she said, "I thought you might be skipping this afternoon. Care if we join you?"

Lauretta smiled politely, but the flash in her eyes—not unlike the light glinting off a pistol—was anything by friendly. "In fact, we do."

"That so…" Liz readjusted her cowboy hat with her right hand. Lauretta and Cho began to walk past, but then Liz shot her left arm out, blocking Cho's way. "Not you."

"What are you doing?" hissed the meister, and Cho flinched back—intimidated. Patty giggled at the other weapon's silly expression.

Liz ignored Lauretta and glared at Cho. "You might not have attracted much attention, but don't think you fooled me and Patty. You're an elemental weapon, aren't you?"

Cho's telling blush almost made the girl look childlike, but the growl that followed ruined any chance of the little weapon looking cute. "You should know what I am—just as you know what you are, Demon Gun."

Lauretta touched Cho's shoulder, and Liz frowned. Patty didn't quite get what was going on, but she knew her sister well enough to realize that Cho had touched on a sensitive subject. "Sis?"

Liz drew her arm back, only to twist away from the wall and stand in front of both weapon and meister, pointing Patty-as-a-pistol at the pair just as Cho's arm began to glow bright blue. Liz took a step back, but with astonishing speed, Cho's glowing hand flew out and grabbed the pistol.

Patty shivered, rubbing her arms in weapon form. "C-c-cold!"

"What the—" Patty glanced back at the sound of Liz's voice, but she didn't see anything wrong except for the suddenly freezing air. Then she noticed—a grapefruit-sized chunk of ice formed around the pistol's barrel.

"Cheater!! Myeh!" Patty stuck out her tongue—only to realize it had turned blue, and be distracted by it.

Lauretta was giggling, but Cho whispered, "Hot water. Don't let her transform until the ice is melted." Then the pair walked away while Liz was still staring at Patty.

Patty glanced up from her discolored tongue to her sister. "Mm? Don't worry, Sis! We'll get 'em with Kidd next time!"

Liz growled in frustration, and Patty shut up as her sister raced to the nearest restroom.

* * *

Death the Kidd did not know why he was ringing the horridly asymmetrical doorbell of Maka and Soul's horridly asymmetrical apartment. He vowed that someday he would invite himself over and install a second doorbell on the opposite side of the door.

He could hear angry shouting inside the apartment, and he fervently hoped it was the television. Kidd shifted uneasily—the asymmetry was killing him—before ringing the awful little doorbell one more time. When no one answered again, Kidd fought back the instinctual urge to run away, as far and fast as he could, preferably with an ample amount of cash for a prolonged stay abroad. Instead, he repositioned the envelopes in his arm and slowly opened the door.

"—nestly, it's none of your business!"

"Don't be an idiot! Of course it's my business!"

"Let go of me! I have a right to privacy, you— Kidd!!"

Death the Kidd stared, open-mouthed, at the scene before him. Soul had Maka pinned against the wall, both hands on her shoulders and his face only inches from hers. She was obviously resisting, trying to shove him away and kicking at his leg, her own raised so high that her skirt had hiked considerably. Kidd blushed and held up the envelopes in an attempt at breaking the awkward moment. "I—I brought your mail up…"

"Oh." Maka shoved Soul, hard, and the weapon released her. Maka brushed her skirt with both hands as she hurried over to Kidd, taking the mail from him. "Thanks."

Soul raised an eyebrow, stuffing his hands in his pockets and slouching even as he did so. "What's up, Kidd? You should've called, and we could have ordered pizza or something."

Kidd glanced between the Soul, who turned and flipped on the TV nonchalantly, and Maka, who rummaged through the mail without a trace of reddened cheeks. "Wasn't I… interrupting something?"

Soul flopped onto the couch, waving his hand as an invitation for Kidd to do the same. "A fight."

Kidd, still a bit frazzled, walked over to the couch and repositioned the throw cover to his symmetrical satisfaction. "And you resort to physical violence in your fights often…?"

Soul laughed. "Well, when Maka starts throwing things at you— oww!" Maka completely ignored Soul's glare as the weapon rubbed the back of his head, holding up the package she had chucked at him. "You see what I mean, Kidd? She started it!"

Deciding to ignore the childishness of the comment, Kidd, with ruler and level in hand, began to straighten out the ever-so-slightly off-center paintings on the wall. Truly, his friends were so _weird_ sometimes.

Just then, Maka called, "It came!" Then the girl slid over the hardwood floor and almost bowled over the couch as she held up a postcard for Soul to see. "It came!"

Kidd knew what it was—at one point or another, all of Maka's friends had witnessed the girl beaming over a recently received postcard from her nomadic mother. Kidd leaned against the couch beside Maka, and both he and Soul examined the card with appropriate appreciation—anything less would result in a painful Maka Chop and possibly an outburst of tears, depending on how emotional Maka felt that day. This particular card arrived from Baxter State Park, Maine, and featured a beautiful photograph of verdant green foothills, a bright clear sky, and a glacial view of Mt. Katahdin. Maka informed them that her family had vacationed there once when she was little, and then she flipped the card over and read the tiny but perfectly neat script aloud:

"_Today I met an old friend over coffee and bagels. I met her standing in the rain under a streetlamp one night many years ago and offered her my umbrella. This morning, she recounted that time and described that old umbrella as a life ring during a flood. It's funny how a simple act of human decency can come across as a wealth of encouragement. Love, Kami Albarn."_

Maka nodded as she finished. "That's my mama," she declared proudly before disappearing into her bedroom, probably to compare the new postcard with the many others in her collection. The boys watched her for a moment. That had been one of the stranger postcards, but when Kidd asked what that was about, Soul said he didn't have a clue.

"So, Kidd," Soul asked as he turned back to the television, "why did you come over, anyway?"

"Liz and Patty threw me out." Rather, Liz had threatened Kidd that if he did not leave her alone that evening, she would shoot him, and Patty's maniacal laugh had not reassured the meister at all. "Liz has been acting weird all day."

Soul chuckled. "I don't blame her. Think she's plotting Black Star's demise about now?"

Kidd did not respond for a moment, and Soul paused for a second before sitting up and regarding his friend a bit more seriously. Kidd shook himself slightly before smiling. "I'm sure it's nothing."

"If you say so." Soul turned back to the TV, and discovering that there was absolutely nothing on, he slid onto the ground and fished under the coffee table for some game controls. He held one up for Kidd, who flinched back at the unsightly, asymmetrical device. "If I win, I have a favor."

Kidd frowned. _A favor? _"Sounds ominous. If I win, I install a new doorbell in the hallway."

Soul smirked. "You're on."


	6. Doubt

**A big thank you to my reviewers! =D**

**See if you can spot the irony.**

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_Maka was standing in a deep, stone-lined pit holding a blue telephone. Cold rain poured down from the night sky, and she was already standing knee-deep in the water. She clutched the little phone closer, leaning over slightly and placing her forehead against the wall as she protected the phone from the rain._

_Then she heard a cry from above. She glanced up and saw a yellow telephone cord hanging down, its coils still springing slightly from the fall. "Soul?" she called, reaching up to touch the cord— only to jerk back with a scream when her fingers touched warm blood._

Maka lurched awake. Gasping for breath, she wrapped her arms around herself protectively, and her toes curled under the covers. _It's that nightmare…._

"You okay?"

Maka looked up, startled to see Soul's silhouette leaning against one side of the doorframe. He walked in and placed a hand on her forehead, checking for a fever. Maka took a deep breath to calm herself. "It was just a—huh?" Maka grabbed Soul's sleeve and recognized it as the T-shirt he had worn to school. "You haven't been to bed yet, have you?" she asked accusingly.

"Sorry." This time it was Kidd standing by the doorway, a certain cat perched on his head. The shinigami yawned. "I'm keeping him up."

"What are you guys _doing_ this late?" Maka glanced at her clock. It was three in the morning.

"Manly stuff," Soul answered.

Maka thought she heard music floating in from the living room, and after a moment of listening, she asked, "Mario Kart?" Kidd and Blair chuckled while Soul huffed.

Then Blair hopped from Kidd's head to the foot of Maka's bed, curling up on the fluffed-up covers. The cat yawned as she announced, "Bu-tan's tiiired."

"You mind if I crash on the couch, Maka?" Kidd asked, though it was obvious Soul had already told him to stay. Maka nodded anyway, and with a simple good night, Kidd walked back to the living room.

"You sure you're okay?" Soul asked.

"I'm fine."

Soul stared at her for a moment, and Maka considered yelling at him to get out. Then the scythe rolled over the office chair and sat down, propping his feet up on the edge of her bed and folding his arms behind his head.

"Soul?"

"Go to sleep."

Maka glared at him as she settled back against her pillow. "You're going to get a crick in your neck."

"I'm only staying until you go back to sleep."

"Okay." Maka rolled over, partially to hide her smile at such thoughtfulness. "Thanks, Soul."

For the rest of the night, Maka slept soundly and without nightmares.

* * *

In gym class, the mock duels continued. Soul and Kidd sat slightly apart from the others, arguing about something, and it seemed to worry Maka, who glanced that way every few minutes. Liz sat beside the meister, and on Maka's other side sat Patty, jabbering about animal sounds (today's main entertainment). Black Star and Tsubaki were currently fighting—or, rather, Black Star was giving an annoying speech about his impending godhood while nimbly dodging his opponent's attacks. The opponent happened to be Ox, but as hard as the poor meister was trying, he just could not keep up with Black Star's speed indoors. Liz glanced at Kim, who alternated between mocking poor Ox and watching him with a look that might have passed for concern.

"… and crows go 'caw!' so giraffes go…" Patty paused. "Sis, what sound does a giraffe make?"

Liz fumbled for an answer, but Maka saved her. "They whoop."

"Really?!" Patty's eyes widened. Liz could practically see Patty's mind wandering to African safaris and giraffes whooping at each other.

"Hey, Maka, I have a question for you," Liz said. Since the fight yesterday, Liz had been worried about her sister, though Patty showed no sign of injury or even discomfort after the ice melted. It irritated Liz to no end that any snotty little weapon could _make_ her worry. "It's about weapons and technicians."

Maka tensed, and Liz noted the uncharacteristic apprehension on the girl's characteristically confident face. Maka grimaced as she looked away. "I'm not sure I'm the one you want to ask."

Liz rolled her eyes. "Maka. If I wanted to ask someone else, I'd ask someone else. I want to hear _your_ answer."

This made Maka smile slightly, and Liz took it as a good sign. "My question is, can a weapon be a meister, too? Is it possible?"

Maka considered for a moment. "I guess. You and Patty can wield each other, right? Technically, that makes both of you meisters."

"But neither of us are as good as Kidd," Liz said, twisting her hands together in her lap. As often as she had brandished Patty's weapon form on the streets of Brooklyn, Liz had never been able to handle a gun like Kidd.

"Of course not!" Maka laughed, and Liz pursed her lips in irritation. "Kidd practices all the time. You've been trained as a weapon, Liz, just like he's been trained as a technician."

"Yeah, silly!" Patty reached over Maka to poke her sister's cheek.

Ignoring her sister, Liz pressed, "So it's just because of his training?"

Maka smiled. "Well, it has to do with your soul resonates with others. For obvious reasons, his soul resonates better in the role of the technician, and yours resonates better as a weapon due to your instincts and personality."

"I see." Liz paused for a minute as she considered. "You know, I might have to use this on my essay."

"You haven't finished either?" Maka asked.

"Liz always waits until the last minute!" Patty chimed in.

"So do you, Patty."

* * *

Later that day, Kidd was showing his ID at the library again. The stupid man with the mustache was working again, and although Kidd had shown the man his ID several times, it never seemed to sink in that, yes, Kidd did have access to any book in the library. After waiting several minutes for the moron to find the files Kidd needed, the shinigami decided then and there that he would install the new doorbell anyway, despite losing the bet.

Leave it to Soul to turn a video game bet into a practice of questionable legality, let alone morality. Kidd blamed Soul's flagrantly asymmetrical hair—it must be affecting his brain, what with the disproportionate distribution of weight….

Kidd flipped open the first file, skimming over the fine print and sloppy signatures. "First meister in family," Kidd muttered to himself. "Trained in fencing but not suited for heavier weapons… mediocre grades, a history of skipping class…"

The library door creaked as it opened, and Kidd glanced up to see Tsubaki peeking in. "Ah! I thought you might be in here."

Kidd smiled in greeting, rolling his (perfectly symmetrical) reading chair away from the candle-lit cubicle. Tsubaki perched on the counter in the adjacent cubicle, leaning over the thin partition to read the title of the document. "Student files?" she asked.

"I'm doing someone a favor."

Tsubaki smiled knowingly. "By 'someone,' you mean Soul."

"So he's dragged you into his paranoia, too, huh?" Kidd asked, picking up a second file to study.

"Paranoia?" Tsubaki asked.

Kidd glanced up at his friend, moving his eyes only, and the girl flinched back from the shinigami's deadpan stare. "Soul _doesn't_ strike you as abnormally paranoid?"

"Well… no?"

Kidd sighed, holding up a file sporting an outdated picture of a girl with curly red hair tucked under a beret. "Tsubaki, you know Maka. Do you really think she would let anyone push her around?" Kidd tucked the file back into its place. "I think Soul's just being his usual, overprotective self. If Maka says she fell down the stairs, I believe her. Only paranoid—and asymmetrical—people would immediately consider some conspiracy theory about _bullies_." Kidd sneered at the word. Honestly, what an idea…

After a thoughtful pause, Tsubaki rested her chin on her folded arms and said, "I don't think it's a conspiracy theory at all."

"Semantics," Kidd muttered as he opened the third and final folder.

"Mm-mm." Tsubaki shook her head slightly. "I don't know what's wrong with Maka—I do know her, and she doesn't like anyone to see her flaws— but I think Soul might be right to worry." Kidd almost scoffed, but that was astonishingly hard to do when Tsubaki looked so serious. "Two days ago, she called me in the middle of the night because she had a nightmare, and Black Star told me that Maka has been having 'problems.' Of course, he wouldn't tell me what those problems were since it wouldn't be the 'god-like thing to do.'"

"Wait. Maka had a nightmare two days ago?" Kidd asked. Tsubaki nodded. "That's strange. I slept over at her and Soul's last night, and she had a nightmare then, too."

"See? Something must be going on."

Kidd skimmed over the last file before he suddenly grimaced. Tsubaki leaned closer to read. "What…" Tsubaki pointed to the entry under Weapon Type. "What does that mean?"

"It means I might be wrong."


	7. Balcony

**Thank you, thank you, thank you to my reviewers! You have no idea the difference you made in my life this week. As a token of my gratitude, I present to you the long-awaited seventh chapter of Rely on Us!**

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**A scythe that would even defeat her papa—that had been her goal since the first time she had visited Shibusen. At the time, it had been a childish fancy, some saucy little remark to make her father laugh. It was only after years of watching her father's lecherous antics, and the resultant divorce, that turned the once naïve desire into a spite-driven ambition.

Still, she didn't _really_ hate her father.

Maybe that's why she found herself standing on the rooftop, leaning against the same railing where her papa usually took his breaks and contemplated the world. There was a comfort in being up so high, watching in silence as Death City passed its afternoon with the usual hustle and bustle.

* * *

Soul found the shredded notebook before he found Maka, and it worried him.

He had been anxious when, after Tsubaki finally dragged Kidd to the cafeteria, neither of them had seen Maka. He had been further concerned when he heard that they had just come from the library, where Maka had told him she would be.

Then he went to search for her (by then, Stein's lecture would start within minutes), and instead he found her notebook—scribbled on with marker, then sliced into pieces—in the garbage can by the classroom door. Soul grimaced as he felt his stomach sink with a heaviness that could only mean something _bad_ had happened.

"Go on," Stein had said with a wave of dismissal. "I don't want you here. Shoo."

Soul nodded appreciatively—though, really, what teacher would agree to detain a weapon when his meister's whereabouts was unknown?—before tearing off down the hallway.

It took him a long while of frantic searching before he finally passed the door that led to the rooftop. He almost ran past it, but as he stopped when he heard a familiar sigh. Peering around the door, he saw Maka leaning against the rail, chin cradled in her arms as she gazed at the skyline.

Then he noticed the red-haired man leaning on the rail beside her.

_So _that's_ what the ominous premonition was about_, Soul thought as he leaned against the inside of the door, settling in to listen from a distance.

"… I'm not really sure if I'm doing the right thing," Maka told her father, twirling the strands of one pigtail in her fingers. "It's not like I'm doing it for myself. It's just… I can't stand by and watch something like that, not when I can do something to stop it."

Spirit patted her head awkwardly, and she looked up. "Don't worry. I'm sure it'll all work out—because…"

Soul perked up. _Because?_

"… I'm your father!" Spirit announced, jerking her thumb toward himself and smirking arrogantly. "My daughter can do no wrong!"

Soul cringed. If that was Spirit's only reason, Maka might as well give up now. In fact, Soul expected his meister to suddenly nail a hole in her father's oh-so-easily inflated ego, just as she always did (and did well).

Then Maka surprised him. Instead of turning angrily away, she actually smiled and said, "Thanks, Papa."

"Anytime, kiddo. You know you can always come to me if you're troubled by anything… especially if that anything is a certain class-skipping punk." Suddenly, Spirit whipped around and jabbed a finger in the direction of the door where Soul was leaning. Maka reddened slightly as she realized that someone had overheard her almost-confession.

"Tch. Who're you calling a punk, geezer?" Soul demanded as he walked toward the pair._ Damn it. I thought she might tell him more about the situation._

"Geezer?! I'll show you geezer, you shark-toothed piece of excuse for—"

"Papaaa," Maka interrupted, her whine immediately bringing Spirit's tirade to a halt, "that threat doesn't even make any sense. Can't you please just let me talk to Soul for a minute?"

Spirit exchanged glares with Soul for a moment before muttering, "Sure," and stalking back into the school, leaving the weapon and meister alone on the balcony.

Neither said a word for a second. Tension hung suspended in the air, and it seemed as though one false move would start the fireworks (because, obviously, Maka wasn't one for waterworks; she needed something more destructive). Then the meister slumped against the rail again, obviously relaxing, and Soul took the opportunity to walk closer and lean his back against the rail, watching her as he stuffed his hands into his pockets.

He smiled in a way he hoped would be comforting. "This is, what, your second time skipping class without a legitimate excuse?" The other time, of course, had been when she stayed home with him after he caught her flu.

Obviously, the smiling wasn't as comforting as he had hoped. Maka's brow wrinkled in annoyance. "I'm just tired. It's nothing."

Soul sighed. "Your notes were _nothing_?"

Maka's reaction—a sudden stiffening in her shoulders, which disappeared again almost before he caught it—was nearly imperceptible, but it meant so much. "H-how," she spluttered, but Soul just chuckled.

"Come on." He held out his hand for her. "We haven't taken the bike for a ride in a while."

Maka laughed a little, too. "But we drove it to school today," she noted as she took his hand.

"Don't be difficult. You know what I mean."

"Mm-hm." She nodded, smiling as she naturally took the lead, pulling Soul along even though he had been the one to suggest the plan. In that moment, her simple, genuine smile completely made up for the lecture Soul knew Stein would give him next class.

* * *

"They're going to meet us for dinner at six," Soul announced as he held out an ice cream cone for her.

Maka, who had been sitting on a low brick wall overlooking the park's grisly, skull-decorated fountain, accepted the strawberry double scoop with an appreciative grin. "I bet we can convince Kidd to pay for it."

"By finding an eighth person to come along?" Soul asked as he sat beside her and took a long lick of his fudge swirl. He laughed when he saw Maka's pout. "What, did I steal your idea?"

"Kind of," she muttered, hiding her lips with the ice cream.

"But who do you think that eighth person will be?" Soul asked, and suddenly Maka's eyes widened. "Do you really want to invite Blair along? To a public venue?"

"W-well, it'd be mean to exclude her…."

Soul chuckled at Maka's pained expression before he said, "She's working tonight, anyway."

Maka smacked her weapon's arm. "You could've just said that!"

"Why are you so violent?" he complained, rubbing his arm.

Maka grinned widely, and Soul raised an eyebrow. "Why are you smiling like that? Do you enjoy brutality?"

Maka took another lick of her cone before she shrugged. "It's just that this is the first time we've really hung out all week. This is normal."

Soul almost rolled his eyes—how incredibly Maka-like. "Normal. Whatever that means."

"Hey." Maka jumped up. "We didn't sign up for a mission this week! We have to go back before the deadline or—"

"I don't want to do a mission this week," Soul interrupted. Maka scowled at him. "What?"

"You're the one who's always so eager to collect more souls. Why are you dragging your feet?"

"I'm not allowed a break once in a while?"

Maka's scowl only deepened as she set her hands on her hips. "Not when you don't tell me the reason that you want the break."

_There's no getting out of it now, idiot_, Soul thought as he outwardly groaned. "You've been… distracted."

Maka glared at him for another moment before abruptly sighing and sitting down again. "Sorry."

"Hmm? For what?"

"Just… not doing my job. As a technician."

Soul snickered. "You still don't have that essay done, do you?"

"Shut up," she muttered, looking away as she ate her ice cream.

"Do you need help?" he taunted.

"No."

"You sound like a little kid."

"I told you to shut up."

"Kidd would help you if you wanted."

"I don't need help!" she growled.

Soul rolled his eyes. This was exactly why his life was so difficult.

* * *

**Author's Note: Waah! I'm sorry this chapter took so long to produce. Between college and great discouragement, I haven't been able to write much. This chapter was supposed to be longer, but I wanted to submit something this weekend, and I won't be able to write anything else until Tuesday at the earliest. Then it'll probably be for The Many Faces of Shibusen.**

**Oh, and by the way: if anyone missed the motorbike scene, you will get to read it later. Hint hint. ;)**


	8. Clues

**Oh my Shinigami, it's been so long! Lots of sorries!!**

**Thank you, as always, to my fans and reviewers (particularly SoulForAnime and Avia Jenith— you rock). Please forgive me for the delay! I will post the next chapter in two days (thank goodness for Thanksgiving break!). **

**

* * *

**Soul was preoccupied.

Even surrounded with friends in a cozy, dim-lit diner (a restaurant the friends visited infrequently whenever the usual eating places and take-out lost their appeal), Soul could not relax. He drummed his fingers on the edge of the table and glowered in the general direction of the television in the corner.

Death the Kidd had already readjusted his placemat symmetrically and started in on rearranging Patty's crayons—which everyone but Kidd seemed to realize was a hopeless battle—when he leaned over and commented, "I didn't think Soul Eater was interested in amateur figure skating."

Glancing at the television just as a sequin-clad twelve-year-old face-planted on the ice, Soul winced. He turned to Kidd with a glare. "You're an ass, you know that?"

"It's such a pleasure to work with you," Kidd said, sarcasm seeping through his voice as he handed Soul a folded piece of paper. Soul pocketed it—coolly—before Maka even glanced his way. Of course, that would have been difficult since Black Star was currently standing on top of the table and explaining a new, Black Star-centric model of the universe, which consumed far more attention from Maka and Tsubaki than it should.

"You figured something out?" Soul asked.

"Something," Kidd muttered noncommittally, hands still fluttering over Patty's crayons, rearranging them even as the childish weapon scattered them again. "Patty!"

"This wouldn't be a problem if you got over your OCD," Liz remarked while reapplying her mascara beside her sister. She paused in her efforts to wink at a passing waiter, who spent so long staring at her that he tripped over a bar stool and dropped his (fortunately empty) tray with a clatter. Patty giggled.

Kidd obviously sympathized with the poor waiter, but then he cleared his throat and turned back to Soul. "Anyway… I told Stein that we'd delay the trip until after school Friday, so no worries, Soul."

"Huh? What trip?" Maka asked as she ducked around Black Star to listen. Soul could plainly read the look on her face: why hadn't she heard about this?

"He means the mission in Mexico. Something about a drug lord going prekishin," Liz explained, waving one hand dismissively. "Piece of cake, as long as we keep Kidd-O under control." Kidd's lips twitched in annoyance at the aside.

"Shouldn't you leave earlier, though?" Maka asked. "You have to fuss with passports and everything."

"It won't take that long," Kidd said. "Don't worry about it."

"But—"

"Wow!" Tsubaki interrupted, tugging on Black Star's pant leg and pointing toward the television. "Isn't that guy really famous?"

Maka sighed as Black Star predictably went off on a tangent to reaffirm his fame and stardom to poor Tsubaki. Under the table, Tsubaki reached over and squeezed Maka's hand. Maka gave her friend a questioning look, which Tsubaki answered with a small smile.

Soul watched the exchange with a growing curiosity. So Tsubaki knew everything, too? _I wonder if she'll tell Maka later_, Soul wondered as he leaned back in his chair. The paper in his pocket seemed almost to burn, he wanted to open it so badly. He hoped Kidd had found an explanation to all this weirdness.

It worried the hell out of him when Maka stopped talking to him. That usually meant she was trying to protect him from something….

_She's such an idiot_, Soul thought as he leaned forward on his hands, resolving himself for another half hour of pretending to take interest in his friends' crazy antics.

* * *

Maka was quiet on the drive home. Soul could feel her forehead leaning on the back of his shoulder, her hands around his waist hanging slack as she dozed. Even when he pulled the motorbike under the overhang behind the apartments, Maka did not move, and not wanting to wake her, he sat there and allowed her to doze while he dug Kidd's note out of his pocket.

_Cho's weapon form is a swordbreaker with ice attributes. Beware._

"A swordbreaker? What the hell is that?" Soul wondered aloud. Kidd never explained himself, but then, maybe this was the only clue he found? Before Soul could wonder any further, Maka stirred behind him, and he quickly pocketed the note and all thoughts attached to it.

"Mmph? Soul?" Maka rubbed her eyes as she sat up. "What time is it?"

"Almost seven thirty. You ready to go up?"

Maka dragged her sleepy gaze up the length of the apartment building and frowned. "Remind me why we live on the third floor?" Soul laughed in response as he stood up, offering his partner a hand as he did so.

When the pair reached the apartment, Maka slumped on the couch to continue her nap while Soul ambled toward the kitchen. Draping his jacket on the back of a kitchen chair, he pulled out the maroon apron that Maka had given him last Christmas (after he stained one too many shirts because he refused to use her girly apron). Then he started digging in the cupboards for a box of cake mix. Soul knew that people would stop by tomorrow, the next day, and throughout the weekend. It was best to prepare snacks ahead of time.

Soul had barely placed the cake pan in the oven when he heard a whimper from the couch. Tossing the apron on top of his jacket, the weapon walked over to the couch and sat down beside his sleeping meister, gently touching her forehead as he checked for a temperature.

The touch woke her up. "What are you doing?"

"You weren't sleeping well. Are you sick?"

"No." Rolling onto her feet, Maka stretched her arms, unintentionally lifting the hem of her shirt so that Soul caught a glimpse of her bruise, which had turned an ugly greenish color while healing. Soul cringed a little at the sight, and Maka lifted an eyebrow in concern.

"Hey. Tell me something."

"Sure. What is it?" Maka asked, leaning on the arm of the sofa.

"Just who are you trying to help?"

Maka stared at him for a moment, green eyes wide with surprise. Then her lips twisted downward, and she pulled herself into a standing position, arms folded protectively in front of her chest. She stared at him for a moment longer before turning and walking toward her bedroom door. Soul didn't try to stop her.

Before she closed the door, though, Soul heard her whisper, "Someone I've wronged."

* * *

**Author's Note: Darn. I didn't get to include any fluff in this chapter. :'(  
**

**Just a quick warning to all you curious readers, I combined the concept of two different versions of a swordbreaker in designing my OC, so don't bother looking it up just yet. I'll explain it in full in the upcoming chapters! Again, sorry for the delay, and I will post the next chapter by Thursday morning!**


	9. Sync

**Thank you so much for reviewing! I'm glad I didn't lose my entire fan base, haha. I'm afraid this chapter is pretty short, but next chapter (out by Sunday morning) is going to super long and action-packed to make up for it. Plus, next chapter has a guest appearance! Hope you enjoy.

* * *

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A little over two years ago…

"Maka, it's a sync rate of 67%. You can't ask for better than that from a new partnership."

Maka didn't spare a glance at the papers her father proffered as she sunk lower into the sofa, lifting her book higher in front of her face. "Papa, I can't take on that weapon. It's just not possible."

"Of course it's possible," the death scythe argued. "Why, even Stein and I only had a sync rate of 62% when we were first partnered, and we had the best score in our class!"

"I don't care!" Maka snapped, closing the book and standing up. "I'm going to be a scythe meister. My weapon has to be a scythe!"

"But—" Spirit never got to finish his thought because Maka had stormed from the room, slamming the door as she went. Spirit sighed, muttering something about kids being too picky.

Later, Maka would find a scythe to call her partner, but despite their initial anticipation, the pair achieved an initial synchronization rate of a measly 47%.

Maka was still annoyed at Soul as she prepared for bed. Sure, he meant well, but she wished he would let her handle something on her own for once. As Maka picked up a book to place in her backpack, her elbow ached slightly, and she corrected the thought, _I wish he would let me handle _this_ on my own._ _It has nothing to do with him! _

Maka dropped her loaded backpack onto the floor beside her desk. Then she noticed her mother's most recent postcard and her pink earmuffs (which she had dug out of the closet last night, just to make sure they were still there) sitting next to her lamp, and she picked up the two precious items. It made her smile, thinking of the two people who had given them to her.

Perching on the foot of her bed, Maka reread the postcard, fingered the fluffy earmuffs, and began to think. What was her role as a technician? A weapon protected his meister at all costs. A technician... made all final decisions for the team, acted as the primary combatant in battle (primary because weapons occasionally fought in human form), and, of course, fed ninety-nine prekishin souls and one witch soul to her partner. She knew that, but there was something more, something just beyond her grasp…

She only had one more day to figure it out. Tomorrow, she had to write the essay.

Before she fell asleep, she slipped the earmuffs and the postcard into the front pocket of her backpack, just for luck. When she fell asleep, she did not dream of bloody telephone wires, but she violently tossed and turned as, in her mind, she searched an infinitely huge library for answers that did not exist there.

* * *

"I can't believe we ate cake for breakfast," Maka complained the next morning.

Beside her, Soul shuffled with his head turned away. "Sorry. I didn't sleep well."

"Hmm?" Maka followed Soul's gaze and noticed that he was staring at a paper posted outside of the gym. "Oh, are those the mock duels for today? It looks like there are only a few left."

"Cho and Hero?" Soul asked, smirking.

"Poor Cho. Man, I'm glad I have one constant partner," Maka said, ignoring the twinge of guilt that rose with the statement. "Can you imagine pairing up with anyone who just happened to match your wavelength? It'd be so frustrating, and never advancing because you could not achieve soul resonance… What? What's with the funny look?"

Soul raised an eyebrow. "Nothing… but do you know what her weapon form is?"

"Of course. She's a swordbreaker. Don't tell me you don't remember!"

"But what _is_ it?"

Soul suddenly flinched when he saw Maka's lips twitch in irritation. "Makaaa… Chop!"

"Inner cranial bleeding… that's a cool way to start the morning," Soul grumbled, cradling his head with both hands as he followed Maka toward their lockers.

"Soul, we just read about medieval weapons last week! You should have seen it in the reading."

"I forgot."

"Or you didn't read it!" Maka ignored Black Star as she opened her locker, but Soul bumped fists with him and told him to save him a place on the gym bleachers. "Honestly, Soul, do you ever study?"

"Nope." Soul smirked as he dumped his bag into his locker on the opposite side of Maka's. "But you're going to tell me what it is, right?"

"No-pe." Maka walked toward the gymnasium without even glancing at her partner. "You're going to have to wait and watch the duel like everyone else!"

"What's your problem?" he growled, and only later would Maka hear the two meanings behind the question.


	10. Swordbreaker

**Another fight, and the revelation of Cho's resonance form next chapter! And chapter twelve is the climax! Hooray!**

**Thank you, as always, to my reviewers! You guys keep me motivated! =D  
**

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* * *

**Hero had worked with Cho twice before. Now, watching the short Asian girl unzipping her Shinigami-emblazed gym jacket and tossing it aside, he experienced the same sensation of ice in his stomach that he had felt on both previous occasions.

Sometimes Hero wondered why he bothered trying at Shibusen. It was not worth it, working with psychopaths like this.

"Hero, you ready?" Cho asked, raising a slender eyebrow in doubt. With the cardigan gone, the girl looked tinier than ever in her tight-fitting gym outfit. "You look white as a sheet," she noted, exchanging he dubious look for one of annoyance.

Hero bit his lip as he glanced past Cho at their opponents, a pair of muscle-bound jocks. When the pair noticed Hero looking at them, the meister stuck out his tongue impudently, and his partner transformed into an impressive forty-two inch claymore that flashed crimson under the fluorescent lights of the gymnasium.

"Everyone ready?" called Marie from the sidelines. Hero glanced nervously over his homeroom teacher, wondering if she cared whether he got sliced in two today.

"If you pee your pants now, I am not partnering up with you again," Cho taunted, stretching her hand behind her. Hero glared at her. "Come on, you pussy, you know what to do!"

"B-b-but they're huge!" Hero protested, though he grabbed her hand nonetheless.

"Just stick to the plan," Cho said as she glowed blue during her transformation. Then Hero was holding the hilt of a swordbreaker.

* * *

Soul glared down at the weapon that appeared in Hero's hands. It was small, but geez, he wasn't sure how he'd tackle such a weapon. The hilt was black with a round grip and crossbar guard. The blade, arctic blue in color, was a mere twelve inches, yet it had a daunting, fearsome appearance. Slots cut into the length of the blade, forming comb-like teeth.

"What are those slots for?" Soul asked Maka, who was leaned forward, elbows on knees, beside him.

"It's called a _swordbreaker_, Soul," she said in exasperation. "Guess."

* * *

"Take your stance, idiot," hissed the blue blade in Hero's hand.

Hero nodded, shifting his weight to the balls of his feet as he leaned forward, blade held in front of him with his other arm held out for balance. The hand grasping the hilt was already starting to turn cold, a sign which Hero knew meant that the two of them were not in sync.

Well, Hero had known that. Last time he had partnered with Cho, they had attempted to perform Soul Resonance on a mission. Hero had nearly lost an arm after he dropped Cho's resonance form, the blade being too huge and too heavy for him to lift and turning his fingers blue besides.

"Start!" Marie called.

Hero shifted his weight again, and Cho hissed, "Stand still! Wait for 'em!"

Hero felt his heart pounding painfully in his chest as he watched the claymore meister charging toward him. _Steady_, he told himself, positioning his left arm under his right so that it formed an X. But he wasn't steady, he was terrified. _Just one shot!_

The opposing meister had raised the claymore over his head. "You petrified weakling?"

"Now!" Cho shouted, and Hero twisted the swordbreaker and lifted it just in time to catch the claymore in one of the slots. The impact jarred Hero's shoulder, even with both arms holding up the clashing blades. The opposing meister cringed for just a moment, and Hero, though too preoccupied to count his lucky stars, happily snagged the opportunity and twisted his wrist. The claymore gave a sharp crack before it flew out of his meister's hands, landing with a clatter several feet away.

Before Hero could so much as point the swordbreaker at the opposing meister, Cho had leapt from his own hand and landed on her feet, facing toward Marie. "We win," she announced.

"Wh-what happened?" Hero asked, gawking at the claymore. The crimson sword had been encased with ice, thought in one spot the ice had been shattered. "What did you do, Cho?"

The swordbreaker smiled, brushing her hair back carelessly with one hand. "Well, I didn't want to actually _break_ him. It was shatter metal or shatter ice, and I figured shattering the ice would be less bloody." Turning to the opposing meister, she added, "Oh, by the way, you shouldn't let him transform again until you melt all of that. Hot water."

Hero groaned as he placed a hand on his chest, feeling the erratic pounding of his heart. That was just too scary. Maybe he'd convince her to try a new strategy next time… but, seeing her cold gaze turn on him one last time before she took her seat again on the bleachers, he figured that it was a lost battle.

* * *

"That was over too fast," Soul commented as he watched Hero follow Cho back to the bleachers. He hadn't expected the two partner-less students to stand a chance, yet they had clearly dominated the match.

"Obviously, someone else didn't pay attention to their reading," Maka said. "They should have known better than to try a close-range fight with a swordbreaker."

"Oi, Maka!" Black Star called as he flopped down in the seat beside her, Tsubaki right beside him. "Why'd she coat the claymore with ice? What's the point?"

"What? Weren't you paying attention?" Maka whined, and Black Star laughed obnoxiously.

"It looked like she was protecting the sword," Tsubaki said, index finger held up in thought.

"Yeah. Rather than putting pressure on the blade and potentially injuring the weapon, she formed a barrier which would allow her to apply force, but not lethal force."

"_Lethal?_" Black Star asked, frowning in doubt.

"Soul, your forehead was cut when Ragnarok nicked your blade, right?" Maka asked, and Soul nodded. "Black Star, just imagine what would happen to a weapon if you broke it into pieces."

Black Star's face promptly twisted into an appalled expression, and Tsubaki giggled. "Well, at least it's only effective against blade weapons," the chain scythe nodded.

"Yes, but that ice ability is troublesome," Soul said.

"Yeah, could be used for long-ranged attacks, potentially," Maka mused.

"Aw, we're screwed if we take her on. I'd just be another blade," Soul complained.

"But I know how to counter it," Maka said, sitting up straight to glare at Soul. "Besides, who said we were 'taking her on?'"

"Don't get so defensive," Soul said, and Maka shoved his arm, hard. "Oww."

* * *

_Maka's arms wrapped more tightly around his waist as she leaned her forehead against his back. "You sure this is okay?"_

_Soul laughed over the engine of the motorbike as he steered it around a corner, startling a sleepy shopkeeper and his sleepy dog. "Am I sure this is okay? Heck no. I keep waiting for you to come to your senses and Maka Chop me before ordering me to turn around."_

"_Hmph. You make me out to be so violent," Maka complained._

"_You _are_ violent."_

"_You—" Soul felt her forehead leave his back as she sat up, but a few seconds later it returned. "You're just trying to provoke me."_

"_Actually, I'm just praying for the safety of my brains, what little of them I have left," Soul joked, and he thought he heard a giggle behind him. "You know, being violent is probably a good thing for you, considering your profession and all."_

_"I am not violent," Maka protested. "I fight the people on Shinigami's list, but that's justice. And you and Black Star deserve everything you get!"_

"_Oi. Don't bring Black Star into this. If you lump me in with the likes of him, you're sure to win the argument."_

_The pair rode for a couple of blocks in comfortable silence. The sun was out, but the breeze was blowing enough that the air was merely warm and not overwhelming. Soul stopped the motorbike beside a big fountain, just to watch it for a minute. Behind him, Maka took a long, deep breath, enjoying the moment as much as he was._

"_Soul, we protect people, right?"_

_He gave his meister a funny look. "I guess so. Why?"_

"_I'm just thinking. As long as we keep protecting people, then I don't mind the fighting, you know?"_

_Soul smirked. If it weren't so uncool, he might have said he was proud of her just then, but instead he said, "Yeah. I'm just worried about who's protecting _me_ from _you._"_

"_Oh, be quiet and drive."_

"_Yes ma'am."

* * *

_

Liz sighed. "Kidd, do we really have time for this?"

The young shinigami, who was currently hanging upside-down from giant candelabra with a polishing cloth in either hand, paused to give Liz a deadpan stare. "Liz, you know this is important to me. Shibusen is the ultimate symmetrical academy! I must keep it that way!"

"Yeah, yeah." Liz leaned against the wall again, watching Patty as the younger demon gun doodled a purple elephant into the margins of Liz's notebook. "Come _on_, Kidd-O, we already skipped gym. I don't want to miss lunch, too."

"Yeah, Patty gets rrreeaaaallly mean when she's hungry, ha ha ha ha!" Patty called as she picked up a green crayon to give the elephant a lopsided crown.

"I'm almost done."

"That's what you said an hour ago."

"There!" Kidd finished polishing a brass arabesque. "Catch, Liz!"

Liz ran forward, grabbing the polishing clothes as they fell, and Kidd soon followed, landing on his feet right in front of her. "Liz, we can't dillydally. We have a mission to accomplish!"

"Me?! I'm the one who's been telling both of you to get going!"

"Ha ha ha!" Patty leaped to her feet, stowing her crayons in her pocket. "We're gonna kick butt, aren't we, sis!"

"Yeah, Patty." Liz smiled as she cracked her knuckles. "We can't let a couple of no-names ruin the reputation of the Thompson sisters!"


	11. Floor

**Sorry for being late! I am herding two three-week-old kittens and cooking dinner while I write this, so I'm afraid this'll be a short one. Next chapter will be longer. Please enjoy!**

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* * *

**

Black Star and Tsubaki parted with Maka and Soul at the door of the gym. "Heading to the airport?" Maka asked.

"Yep!" Black Star tugged on Tsubaki's arm. "Let's go, let's go!"

Tsubaki smiled. "You sure you don't want to come, Maka? You're the one who recruited him."

"That's okay. Try not to be late for class, okay?"

"Gotcha," Tsubaki said, and then Black Star yanked her toward the door.

Soul laid a hand on Maka's shoulder, steering her toward the cafeteria. "Do you want to call him? I doubt he's expecting that numbskull 'god' to pick him up."

"He won't care. Don't you remember how nervous you were before the partnership ceremony? Double that."

Soul smirked. "Cool guys don't get nervous."

Maka innocently lifted the large book she'd been carrying and laughed when Soul cringed. "Riiight."

* * *

Death the Kidd and the Thompson sisters met Cho in the middle of the hallway. She looked distracted and didn't notice them until she almost bumped into Kidd.

"Busy?" Kidd asked.

Cho glared at him. Liz watched as the weapon slightly raised her arm to one side, as if preparing for a fight. "I am."

"Oi!" Brigit ran over, red curls bouncing, and slid into place in front of Cho. Her hand glimmered red as her hand morphed into a triangular blade. Lauretta was a moment behind her, grabbing Cho's wrist as if ready to yank her out of the way of an attack. Brigit yelled again, "Don't gang up on Cho!"

Liz raised an eyebrow. It was admirable of the pair to stand up for their friend, but that didn't excuse their previous actions. "You've been doing to same thing to Maka, right? Did you really think we wouldn't notice?"

Patty, who had been standing quietly beside Liz, suddenly grinned like a maniac while narrowing her big eyes. "Bitches," she said, and the other girls jerked back. Obviously they'd never seen angry Patty before.

Kidd, on the other hand, remained calm; he straightened his jacket as he spoke. "I think I understand your motivation, but that doesn't mean I can condone your actions. So just what were you planning for today, hm?"

"That's none of your business," Lauretta said.

"We'll stop you," Liz replied, lip curling into a snarl.

Cho shifted into weapon form, and Lauretta was suddenly holding the swordbreaker. "Just try it," the weapon growled.

"I think you're forgetting something." Liz reached out her hand. Patty transformed into a gun and landed in her sister's open palm. "We're Demon Guns, not a blade."

"Oh, I know." The swordbreaker began to shimmer again, expanding.

"Soul Resonance?" Kidd asked.

Brigit grinned. "You better step in, meister. Your weapons can't handle Cho's Resonance form." The shinigami made no reply. Liz glanced back at him, but he shook his head, silently telling her to focus on the fight. Of course he would know. He always knew when to step back and let her take care of what was bothering her.

Cho had finished transforming. Liz and Patty gaped at the huge sword that Lauretta now held. The blade was thick as a finger and almost three feet in length. The fluted cross section connected to a fist-sized steel pommel. It looked heavy. Actually, the whole sword looked heavy with all of its weight designed to rest in its point like the head of a hammer. The blond meister had to lean that point on the ground, too weak to lift it any farther. _With an unstable resonance, it's unbelievable that she can touch that blade at all. What are they planning? _Liz wondered.

Liz gasped when Lauretta suddenly leaped forward. Brigit bent forward, allowing Lauretta to step on her back and jump into the air above Liz and Patty. Liz just managed to draw Patty closer to her side, out of the way, when Lauretta dropped the swordbreaker. The sword fell point-down. Its impact cracked the stone floor where Patty half a second before. Kidd made a strangled noise when he saw the uneven fractures in the floor.

Then Cho transformed into her human form again, eyes flashing. Now past the Thompson sisters, she ran down the hall. Liz turned back to Lauretta as Brigit leapt into her hand, ready to defend her meister. "Kidd, go after her," Liz said. "We'll take care of things here."

Kidd waved. "Don't let me down!"

"'Course not." Liz pointed Patty toward the blond meister.

Grinning, Patty repeated, "'Course not, dammit."


End file.
